Isabelle?!

Abandoned on the side of Mount Pokahonaweeblewon, by her tax-evading acrobat parents, when she was just a babe, Isabelle was taken in by a family of goats and raised as one of their own. After 14 or 15 or maybe 16 years of eating little bits of paper and butting heads (which later explained her trying a crack at a career in the accounting) her goat parents moved to another mountainside. But Isabelle decided to see if there was more to life than what one could do at a slight angle. So off she went, down into the valley below the mountain, and into the small, intentional town that was centrally located, aptly named Central.
There, after spending several weeks living in the town fountain, she was taken in by the town Mayor and his wife, Lola. They were very loving parents, if not a bit political (I mean come on, taking in a feral goat-girl, what better sap story is there for the 6 o’clock news?).
The Mayor was a loud man, loud and tall. He liked to use words that had three or four syllables, like Constantinople or jujube. He also held the world record in pipe bending, a feat that he like to draw attention to at the beginning of every speech, toast, or declarative sentence he made. The Mayor’s wife, Lola, was a broad woman, with rosy cheeks and the smell of lavender about her. A former spy for the Soviets, before being introduced to her husband outside an Obsessive Compulsive Anonymous meeting (he was there for an adult education course on welding), she was demure yet still had an air of uncertainty. Lola enjoyed picture straightening, the skin that forms on top of uncovered pudding, and rolling socks into neat little balls and then color coordinating the sock balls in the sock drawer. She also had a secret love of pulling the books to the front end of the shelf and arranging them by height, which she did anytime something deeply upset her.
Isabelle’s second set of human parents raised the young girl with all the love and supportive metal framing they could. They taught their daughter the ins and outs of the English language and human behavior. Things like, opening doors with your hand instead of kicking them in with your foot and trying not to carry on a conversation when your mouth was full of cherry tomatoes. By the time Isabelle had reached the age of 24, she was a force to be reckoned with. With all the stubbornness of Oreamnos Americanus and the shrewd behavior of a politician she was bound for great things..